


Car Therapy

by CatsNotCalculus



Series: Uber for the Heir? [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Alcohol, Cuz I'm assuming they are, Daddy Issues I guess, Drunk Byakuya, Fluff, I hope it is, M/M, Makoto is an Uber driver, Non-Despair AU, Promotion party if that's even a thing, Swearing, Tagging sure is fun, Why do I enjoy writing Byakuya thinking about stuff so much?, age up AU, no Hopes Peak Au, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 06:58:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17381837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatsNotCalculus/pseuds/CatsNotCalculus
Summary: Byakuya really needs a ride home, but pride dictates that his personal driver should never see him drunk.Thus, he gets an Uber account, because that is definitely logic.---------------------------------------------------------------The one where Makoto drives an emotional drunk blonde home.





	Car Therapy

Byakuya felt it was only right to celebrate after being promoted.

Other festivities such as birthdays or Christmas were merely a gathering of relatives where he was supposed to smile and nod politely and only occasionally engage in the smallest of small talk. Socialising was a structured practice in those situations. It was never interesting conversation and it only existed to pass time until the end of the event. It was never lively due to the fact that everyone there wanted to leave.

Or, at least _he_ wanted to leave.

However, that was only the icing on his main reason for disliking other celebrations and special days. It was because nothing was done to gain Easter, and it also didn't make any sense. Eggs and rabbits? Ridiculous. No one had ever sacrificed anything for a birthday (literally all you had to do for that is exist) and he wasn't Christian, so Christmas meant nothing to him anyway. The celebration wasn't deserved.

Though, promotion parties were different. First of all, few family members would even be there and his workplace would mostly be occupied by co-workers and underlings most of whom he deemed worthy. The conversations weren't stilted simply because he had little to none of them, and that was a relief. Lastly, the celebration felt right, because he had earned something.

...But in this case, someone else had achieved such a celebration.

He was currently attending the party for a Kyoko Kirigiri, who just got promoted to be his boss.

_Yay, how wonderful. She got promoted when I do exactly twice as much overtime as her, how_ **_fair._**

His face grew sour at the thought and he gripped the wine glass in his hand tighter, glaring off at a wall as if it had personally offended him. Despite his bitterness, he knew that she would be on his back later if he didn't show up to the party.

She even had the nerve to smile at him when he walked in. _Ugh, smug bit-_

He avoided her after that.

So, he leaned against the wall close to the exit, downed his entire glass of red wine and found himself ever more disappointed. Another good thing about promotion parties was that it wasn't too weird to get a little drunk. Byakuya found a slight solace in that and without a second thought, took another glass from a passing waiter.

More than a few drinks later, he decided it was likely time to leave since he had actually started considering blackmailing her into leaving the company. He knew it was petty, childish even. It was probably best to let it go, because there was always a chance to rise up later anyway. He would just need to smoothen out his office politics a bit more, make friends with the right people, and eventually he'd be on top.

Yes, he'd get there.

His father, the current CEO, would most certainly see that he was better than Kyoko. He probably just wanted to push him to do better, right?

_Right?_

Making his way to the elevator clumsily, he slipped his phone out from his pocket to call his driver out of habit. While leaning against the wall, he stopped in his tracks and stared at his phone for a long moment.

He couldn't call his driver _like this_.

He was a lot more than just a bit drunk, he was _wasted_. The reflection of himself in the unilluminated phone screen was vivid and he looked like a mess. He could smell the sweetness of the alcohol on his own breath. To make matters worse, he already knew that he was a talkative drunk. Due to that, calling his driver was out of the question. Being seen in this state by someone he'd see regularly would break his image. It was a matter of dignity.

A traitorous portion of his mind supplied the more truthful reason; ' _my_ **_pride_ **'.

He was lucky he could even think, though he did feel much slower in his analysis than usual.

What could he do then?

Walking home would take forever and he didn't trust the streets enough to not get mugged in his drunken state. He could ask someone from work for a ride, but that would require letting someone _here,_ **at his workplace,** know the fact that he needed _help_. Which was not allowed, by his dignity nor his pride. What if his father found out? That wasn't the kind of image he wanted to present to him.

God, why did he get drunk again? At this point he couldn't even remember.

The reason must've been very displeasing.

He turned, caught sight of the 'Congratulations Kirigiri' banner adorning the entrance to the main party room, and promptly rolled his eyes. Public transport could work. He cringed internally at even thinking that. Public transport was filled with commoners, the 99%, _the sheep._ Byakuya refused to even share _breathing space_ with more than one at a time.

Then a taxi? Or an Uber?

Taxies were absolutely filthy whenever he had ever had the displeasure of taking one, so an Uber would likely be the best bet. He navigated through his phone with poor coordination and somehow managed to start downloading the application without becoming frustrated enough to throw his phone. It was undoubtedly pitiful that he had to do this, but his alcohol riddled brain at least kept some of the shame away.

He pressed the down button for the elevator and wandered inside once the doors slid open, pressing the G button to get to the ground floor. He brought his eyes to his phone once again, noticing that the app had finished installing. With much reluctance he opened it and began entering his details to sign up, faking some of the information simply out of paranoia. The elevator dinged when it reached his destination, and by then, he was done making an account.

He stumbled a little past the receptionists, giving them the best sneer he could muster. Neither of the two girls seemed to care. They were busy anyway, so either they didn't notice him or were ignoring him as they finished up for the night.

The air was chilly against his face as the automatic doors swiftly opened. He stumbled a little as he walked toward the busy city road, tapping the button to request a ride on the app. People passed by in small groups and the sky was very dark, street lamps illuminating most of the street. He shivered involuntarily, soon reaIising exactly how freezing it was out here. _I should have brought a coat_ , he thought as he felt goosebumps rise on his skin. This was really beneath him, forgetting something so simple.

_Maybe that's why she got the promotion?_

_Was she better than him?_

He grit his teeth to stop them from chattering and scowled at his phone, casting the demeaning thoughts aside. His phone made a little noise that aided in distracting him from his wallowing, a driver had picked up the request. He read their details; his driver's name was Makoto Naegi and he had a very average, bordering on cheap, green car. Byakuya made sure to do his best to remember the license plate so he could more easily spot the car in the darkness _and also be able to find and destroy this person if need be._

The traffic in front of him never ceased flowing, but soon a green car came up on the building he was in front of. It technically wasn't too late to just leave and not do this. He could find another way… right?

...there wasn't much point.

He sighed as he raised his arm to get the attention of the Uber driver, looking away in embarrassment. Inside the car, the driver perked up as they noticed him. It was a little hard to see exactly what the driver looked like in the low light, so Byakuya let himself be cautious of the green car approaching him to park outside his workplace.

Placing his phone in his pocket, he made his way to the car slowly, trying not to appear as drunk as he felt. He attempted to catch a glimpse of the inner of the car and its inhabitant, but it was barely lit inside the car. He lifted his hand to the door, expecting to have to open it himself, _like a commoner_ , but it swung open before he had a chance to even touch it.

The driver, Makoto, had reached over the centre console of the car to politely open the door for his passenger.

'Come on in, it could start raining soon!' He smiled at the tall man.

While it was fairly dark inside the car, he could make out the outline of the driver’s face. Byakuya wasn't entirely sure whether the driver's cute expression was sincere or the mask of a serial killer.

_Wait, cute?_

_Byakuya Togami does not find_ ** _anyone_** _cute._

**_Byakuya Togami needs no such affiliations._ **

… _I_ _must be_ _really_ _drunk._

Byakuya slid awkwardly into the surprisingly clean car, quickly arranging his legs to sit as comfortably as he could manage in the small space of the passenger side. He then glared as hard as possible so the driver would start already. The driver was busy looking out for an opening to bring the car back into traffic, and so he wasn't really paying attention. Byakuya took the time to try to get a better look at him, but it was still somewhat poorly lit in the car. Only the dim lights from the buttons and dials and the street lamps were illuminating the car's interior.

The driver had darkish hair, possibly brown, from what Byakuya could tell. He had a relatively small build ...and was wearing extremely casual clothes. _Tch._

Typical of a commoner.

'So where did you need to go? You didn't put an address in the app.' Makoto spoke with an amused tone.

_Oh._

This kinda put him on the spot. He knew that if he spoke, the driver would realise how absolutely smashed he was, if he couldn't smell it already. He probably couldn't even speak properly because of his tongue feeling as heavy as it did in his mouth. There was a cloud over his usual cognitive abilities and so he couldn't reach them as actively.

Plus, if he started talking now, it was likely he wouldn't stop. He crossed his arms almost as if doing so would keep him from spilling his guts.

'You alright sir?'

His eyes narrowed.

_And here it comes._

' _No_ , I didn't get my promoshion and Icanbarelythink becaush of how much wiiine I drank, and I cannot _believe_ I drank that much wine. I’m pretty shure it was **literallytwobottles in lesh than four hoursh.** I wonder if I could die from thish, _Iprobablymight_ . At thish point I don't even mind if that's the case. Losht the damn promoshion to a bitch who’sh gonna still be the same ash she ushually is, cold as fuck, so the same ash me, moshtly. Why did she get it, _Idon'tgetit_ , we do, like, the _same_ work, so what the fuck? I even do more overtime! I put more effort in!’

One of his hands moved to cover his face haphazardly, only adding to the amount of mumbling and poor speech.

‘On top of that, I'm yooshing thish stupidappfor _commoners_ jusht so I can get home and eshcape da embarrashment of my pershonal driver knowing I'm in this uselesh state... So, no, _I'mnotalright_.'

The words came out unwanted, and likely weren’t even fully understood due to him slurring more than speaking. Byakuya cringed inwardly at himself. Divulging all his thoughts as garbage drunk talk to this stranger, how foolish. He glanced to the side, finally acknowledging that all of that _jargon_ really was heard, by some _idiot_.

The driver was staring now. _Great._

Byakuya pursed his lips to refrain from any more leakage of unwanted information, glaring at the driver in the process. _Just fantastic, good job mr drunk-off-his-ass, fucking great…_

‘Pffft-’

Makoto’s mouth wobbled a little before a grin split across his face.

Byakuya's glare intensified.

‘Hahaha! S-Sorry, ohmygod, haha, I shouldn't laugh, your drunk voice is adorable! Don't be ashamed or anything, m-most people at this hour only get an Uber _because_ they're drunk. Usually, people who hadn't chosen a designated driver already... Anyway, I didn't catch an address in there?’

Most of what the driver said was lost in the abyss, not heard in the slightest. Byakuya's drunk mind happened to get caught on a certain word and was having a hard time wrapping his head around it.

_...Adorable?_

_W h a t   t h e_ **_f u c k_ ** _?_

It was taking too long to process, causing Byakuya to promptly ignore the comment in favour of simply not thinking about stupid things like that. He had to get back to the original objective, to get home and scream into a pillow (and/or cry). And so he stared back at Makoto dumbly, trying to recall what the hell else the driver had said. He wanted his address, right? Was that right?

The driver was still giggling to himself cutely, waiting for the passenger to attempt to collect himself.

**_Cutely-_ ** _oh fuckit, whatever, just think whatever you want, mind._

_‘_ Sorry, 17 Ashgrove Boulevard…’ He enunciated his words as carefully as he could manage, so the address hopefully wouldn't be put in incorrectly. The driver made a pleased little hum in response, clearly still quite amused. A few times, Byakuya caught the driver glancing over as he entered the address into his GPS, a shy smile visible in the low light.

‘Whatsh sho funny? I'm shure you’re done laughing at me by now, right?’

Makoto huffed and looked away, since an opening appeared in the traffic. He thanked the car who let them into the lane with a brief wave, likely unseen in the dark of the street, but the gesture remained. The smile lingered as he gazed out the windscreen to focus a little more on driving.

‘N-Nothing, but about your uh, her promotion, I hear it's a good idea to talk to strangers you'll never see again about problems, cause’ it's not like anything you say to me will affect your life in the slightest, no one in your life will know. I th-think it might be good for you, if you want to, that is… it might also fill the air with conversation, r-rather than being left with silence the whole trip-’

‘Doyoureallythink, I'm jusht gonna, tell you everything about me?’ The businessman slurred, blankly staring at Makoto, as if the answer to that should have been obvious.

‘W-Well, you've already told me a bunch of stuff about you. I just want you to know that I'm all ears if you want to talk to me about it, that's all..’

A silence stretched over the both of them when the blonde didn't answer.

...It was annoying how appealing the option seemed. Opening up to a stranger, _a commoner_ , and for what? A little peace of mind? ...Was he joking? It would be absolutely foolish to agree.

But, at the same time, it seemed a pity to overlook to the opportunity. Byakuya tried to summon to mind someone he felt he could say anything regarding his feelings to... and came up unpleasantly empty. A few moments of brooding came to a result of a ‘ _fuck it’_ murmured under his breath.

‘Fine’ he finally uttered, still uncomfortable with the decision, but determined nonetheless. The driver glanced over, pleased with the affirmation, then timidly returned his eyes to the road.

‘S-Start w-whenever...’

He rolled his eyes. Rather than starting immediately, he chose to avoid it a moment longer by taking more notice of the driver’s mannerisms. _You're just trying to find a reason not to do this._

Clenching his teeth at himself, Byakuya still briefly wondered why the driver, Makoto, was acting almost, nervous? Or did he just have a stutter? What reason would he have to be nervous? Byakuya caught himself before asking, not really for any reason other than feeling as though it wasn't something he should ask. It probably didn't matter anyway, so he ignored it.

He leaned back in the car seat, reclining it back a fraction so his knees weren't pressed against the dashboard anymore. His jaw was starting to hurt. He could almost feel the words pile up within him, it wouldn't be long until he spilt. A sigh left his lips before he unfurled his arms and planted his hands firmly on his knees, refusing to look at the driver.

If he was going to do this he'd at least make it dignified, he wanted to _at least_ enunciate his words properly.

‘Okay… well, I uh’

_This is going_ **_great._ **

‘You already know the basicsh, but to _reiterate…’_ he felt pride at the fact he pronounced reiterate properly, before realizing how very stupid that was, in and of itself. He continued, eager to forget the embarrassing thought.

‘Iamverydrunk, and I hate my coworker becaush she’sh bettetter than me… No… no, she'sh not. Why'd I shay that? Anyway, I'm feeling like thish cuz _Ican'tfuckingbelieve_ that my dad promoted _her_ , over _me_ . Hish own shon. I do my besht every fucking day. I work, I work, I work sho fucking hard and _forwhat?_ For nothing? Not even approval? It makesh me think that I'm notdoingwellenough. That he thinksh I'm not good enough. Thatsh, that's how it feels… that's how it feels. I failed, even though, I did my besht.

That I, Byakuya Togami, failed.’

The words flowed steadily, cutting deep as they were said, only opening the wound inflicted on his pride further. He could feel something wet at the corners of his eyes as he gripped his knees ever tighter.

‘There, my guts are spilt, am I supposhed to be happy now? Am I supposed to be _fine_ with admitting that? I'm supposed to be the heir to my dadsh company, and he didn't even think I was good enough for thish promoshion… why?’

The question at the end came out smaller and weaker than he'd ever want to sound. It was scary. He flicked his eyes over to the driver, waiting for the same mirthful laughter from before, but the driver was staring ahead. He wasn't sure what he preferred in terms of a response, but he knew he felt thankful, glad he wasn't being laughed at - _or given looks of_ **_pity. Ugh. -_ **he continued, now staring out the window to the shadowed street passing by.

Maybe no response was better than some stranger’s take on why his father would reject him in such a way. His eyes dropped to the road, its shape deforming and becoming quick lines across his vision. A spiral of sadness curled up low in his stomach at the thought that this stranger might have a better idea of what his father was thinking. He had no idea what his father intended to do. Was this supposed to be some kind of reverse psychology? To make him do even better?

‘...Am I supposed to just try harder? If I do that, I… I dunno. I don't know what'll be left of me, after that.’

Byakuya didn't have much left to say, but he also didn't have the energy to expel all his anger at Kyoko. It was way too much effort for something that would only leave him empty inside. His voice had become lighter, more defeated with every word spoken.

He didn’t want to hear that.

Biting his lip in an effort to stop, he felt each of his nails scratching his knees through the fabric, almost tearing at that point… Probably not. They were designer fabric... and his mind was just coming up with any topic it could, to avoid thinking about, well, everything, _wasn’t it_?

The hum of the car’s engine and some light rain beginning to start were the only sounds for a while. Byakuya just stared out the window, wondering how things had ended up this way. He briefly wondered what the driver thought of him. _Not that it mattered of course._

The car came to a stop as it approached a red light.

Makoto was quiet, he had his brows furrowed from what Byakuya could tell in the reflection on the passenger side window. A sigh left the driver.

‘I, I think you’re wrong.’

_What?_

Byakuya’s head snapped to the side so fast he thought he felt his neck snap.

‘Well, it’s not like I know anything about you, or any of what you just said, b-but there’s probably another way to look at it.’ Makoto spoke hesitantly, knowing that his opinion may not be wanted. Not once did his gaze leave the road ahead, for fear of the wrath slowly burning brighter beside him.

The blonde grit his teeth and his expression morphed to one of anger, but he still said nothing. Who knew, maybe the driver’s perspective could _enlighten him._ A chortle escaped him, just the prospect of that idea was coldly amusing, like laughter that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

His eyes locked onto the driver sharply in an aggressive manner, just daring Makoto to give his take on the situation.

‘I don't really know, but I think that there's likely a better way to look at it. Y-Your perspective seems a little biased. It's like you're trying to find the worse possible way to take in the situation, which I don't think is fair. I-I could be wrong though...’

Frustrated by the stupid claims, the blonde retreated into his cold persona so he could properly deal with the idiot. He pressed his glasses up on his nose in annoyance and did his best to speak clearly.

‘Yes, you definitely could be wrong, in fact _I know you are._ I think I would know my own father better than _you,_ someone who has never so much as been in the same room as him. He's disappointed in me, that much is obvious. I failed him.’

His tone came out clean and uncluttered, cold and angry. Makoto looked at him with wide sad eyes before returning them to the front, hunching his shoulders a little over himself.

‘I didn't mean to assume anything. I just thought-’

‘At thish point, I'd prefer if you shimply remained silent. Your pershpective is blatantly falshe to me, sho I would like to cease our little chat.’

‘N-No, I don't think it's healthy for you to just assume you're right all the time. You don't know what your dad thinks…i-it's hard for me the guess about my own family.’ The driver sent a sheepish smile Byakuya's way and it only served to irritate the blonde further. He refused to even acknowledge the statement with a response.

_I don't know what my dad thinks? Does this commoner even realize how insulting that is to insinuate?_ **_What an absolute fool._ **

A scowl soon rested upon his face with a determined glare blazing into the side of the other man’s face as if he could silence him with just that. Makoto didn't even notice, too busy driving to spare a glance at the passenger. Byakuya wasn't sure how he felt about all of his intimidation tactics going to utter waste like this. It would probably help if he wasn't drunk. He was certain that if the two of them were talking without distraction, the driver would definitely be much more fearful. Being forced to talk to someone like Byakuya, where the blonde could be as confrontational as he liked, often scared whoever he was speaking to into compliance. Of course, he had never done so for a truly malicious reason, but more to get good work done faster.

It slowly dawned on him that that train of thought made him imagine speaking to the driver elsewhere, as if they'd ever even meet again after this. _Why would I even want to do that?_ The thought didn't necessarily tell him he wanted that, but it was odd nonetheless. At that moment, the driver made a left turn that Byakuya recognized, even in the dim lighting of the streets. He was at least twenty minutes from his home.

His scowl deepened.

The silence from the passenger side must have been making the driver uncomfortable, so he began to stutter out his theory on the situation.

‘It's just that, m-maybe you didn't get it because your dad, uh, b-because your dad wanted you to stop focusing so much on success and failure, and on what you can do to be happy? I'm not sure, but maybe because your coworker, maybe she doesn't worry as much as you do about everything, and is more looking for things like self-improvement and happiness, rather than aiming for the top of the company like it's her only goal… it's just an idea…I don't really know...’

The blonde's eye twitched.

His father wanting him to stop working so hard? He wanted him to be _happy_ ? Kyoko got it because she was happy? Because she wasn't aiming for the top, she got a step closer to something she wasn't even outright _wanting_ ? **_What is that supposed to even mean!?_ **

The words lit a fire inside him, because there was **no** way, that this _fucking_ stranger had any clue what the hell his father was truly thinking. There was no way. _That can't be right. He's wrong, he's wrong, he's wrong,_ **_he's wrong,   h e ‘ s w r  o n g._ **

Blue orbs widened as a chill swept through him as he, for a moment, contemplated the idea of the driver being correct. _Everything I’ve done is worthless...? Then, why…?_ He clenched his eyes shut, righteously dismissing it. A vicious fury burned up the possibility. The anger swept through him stronger than before. _For making me even_ **_consider_ ** _being wrong._ His next words were spat out like venom.

‘ _You're fucking ridiculous._ Don'ttellmethat, all along I was supposhed to be shlacking off and having _fun?!_ I've shpent my life working hard and shucceeding and it hasn't failed me before now. Youhavenoidea, what I've done to be as perfect as I've made myself. If you, by some awful shtrike of fate, happened to be correct, that would make everything I've gone through, everything I've put myself through, absholutely uhseless. So _don't pretend_ like you know a thing about my situation. Don't pretend you know a thing at all.

Jusht shut up and drive.’

He’d managed not to yell, but he intended to make it clear that a response other than silence for the remainder of the trip would not be acceptable. Byakuya didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

...The driver wasn’t supposed to retaliate.

‘I-I'm just trying to help you! I'm sorry, but I just thought that maybe you'd like to hear another opinion. Even if you didn't want one, I wanted to give you mine anyway. You're probably making the thought behind this whole thing simpler than it is. It's probably more complicated than just whether _you_ failed or not. I-’

Another roll of eyes came from the blonde's direction.

‘Well, I didn't ask for your opinion, and I don't care what you think anyway. You’re becoming much too inveshted in my problemsh. _Whatareyoueven_ , a therapisht? No, you're just a low wage, idiotic Uber driver, so _stop it_.’

That seemed to work. The driver huffed and narrowed his eyes, sending a partial glare to the businessman. It was a low blow, to insult the driver’s ‘profession’, but the blonde didn’t particularly care at this point. He seemed to have actually offended the other young man, if his expression was anything to go by. Good. At least now he'd just be quiet. A new little feeling dropped into his mind, a twinge of guilt mixing in with everything else.

_Guilt? For what? “I'm_ **_so_ ** _sorry, but I'm completely and absolutely right”, yeah sure._ He sat up straight, looking down at his hands in his lap.

What reason was there to be guilty? Who was this commoner even, to tell him what to think? Regardless of this self-pity, a truth remained. Byakuya wasn’t good enough, and that was enough to send him spiralling like this. Enough to make him want to get so drunk that he could forget his own existence for a while.

...That was all he could do right now. Too bad he could still feel every little thing that was cutting into his heart. Getting drunk was worthless to stop it.

His anger from before went out like a candle as he reminded himself of exactly how he got here, in this stupid car. Wallowing in his feelings of inadequacy and disappointment, he blankly stared out the window. This was probably the worst night of his life, he realized with a weak smile. So far, he’d only managed to make it worse by talking to this fool. Even if the driver _was_ right, it’s not as though Byakuya wanted to admit that. Being wrong just felt… bad. Like a bitter taste in his mouth he couldn’t escape from. And in this case, the bitterness was extended to how he understood his father. If he was wrong, then what else hadn’t he understood about his father’s decisions? Was there something he was missing?

Byakuya didn’t want to think that way.

He wished he hadn’t even bothered dealing his problems this way, because then he wouldn’t have gotten drunk, and subsequently, he wouldn’t have met the driver in the first place. Wouldn’t have told him about this god awful mess… he also wouldn’t have been so cruel to him. The guilt stabbed into him a little more, twisting like a knife in his gut. He glanced over for a second with sombre eyes before returning to the window.

He’d probably ruined Makoto’s night too…

Some murmurs came from the driver’s side, almost inaudible. It took him out of his thoughts as soon as he noticed it. He turned his ear to attempt to listen in to what the driver was saying. It was likely that Makoto didn’t want to him to hear it, though it nonetheless made him somewhat curious. He could only catch a small amount of the speech muttered bitterly under Makoto’s breath, but what he heard was more than enough.

‘...Tch. Maybe she..the promotion because...doesn’t deal...failures like this…’

His eyes widened as he managed to assume the words he missed.

_She got the promotion because she doesn't deal with her failures like_ **_this_ ** _._

_Ah._

...that ...could be true.

_Shit. Maybe he actually_ is _right._

Such simple words sent him spinning. Thinking back over the whole night, he had been and still was festering spite against Kyoko; he was cemented in his feelings, that he had failed. He had been thinking that he disappointed his father, and so had spent the whole night wallowing in self-pity, bitterness and the sweet taste of numbing his mind with wine. He’d thrown himself a pity-party and had wanted to lash out at her. He was jealous, envious even. Because his father had chosen _her_ over him.

_My father is disappointed in me. My father is disappointed in me. My father is disappointed in me._

_…_

_I… am disappointed in myself._

Had Kyoko even once attempted to rub in his loss? She had smiled at him when he walked in, but looking back on that, she didn't seem to be looking down on him. Was she? He took the smile as a something born of victory, but maybe…

Maybe it wasn't.

He had instead taken the smile as a sense of smugness that she had managed to get exactly what _he_ wanted, for less work than he had put in...which did nothing to help him ignore his emotions. Then, after blatantly ignoring her, he had the audacity to numb his annoyance with glass after glass of wine. Just to escape the whole situation the only way he could.

Evidently, alcohol was a terrible way to deal with his feelings.

_That should not be as much of a surprise as it is..._

Was all of that...the reason why he didn’t get it? Because he was a sore loser? Did his father know…? _Of course he would, he fucking raised me. He’d know exactly what I’m doing right now._ Which meant, all of this was exactly what his dad expected. Byakuya would come home to his luxurious townhouse that he bought and moved into a year ago, walk to his room like nothing was wrong and then crumble to pieces in the safety of his own home.

Whenever Kyoko got something wrong, she’d just remember what she did wrong and fix it, or just smile and forget about it - if it was just a simple or stupid mistake, that she knew she’d remember to do correctly the next time - in a way that always seemed unnatural to him. That could have been because he didn’t think that kind of failure was forgivable. Success required regulation.

It may be the alcohol talking, but... the driver might actually be right. Oh god.

Makoto was still calmly driving; he'd long stopped muttering by now. He was likely thinking about something else already and was completely unaware of the blonde's revelations. Content to ignore the tension the passenger had created, he began to hum a little.

The sound found its way into the businessman’s mind where a war was currently waging. It was soothing, and managed to calm the blonde's insides to a point where he didn't have to bite his lip hard enough to break skin just to not start yelling at himself. He listened for longer than necessary and then attempted to bridge the gap over the two conflicting ideas in his head with Makoto's theory from earlier. Maybe they were both right?

To combine Byakuya's feelings of disappointment and both of the driver’s ideas on the situation. Makoto's ‘theory of happiness’ and his accusation toward Byakuya's way of dealing with failure. While he was busy trying to find some way to organize his thoughts, one thing was suddenly made clear. Makoto technically had the right idea before; how it was impossible to know the truth anyway, because he couldn't know exactly what his dad was thinking. Neither of them could.

The reasoning could still be a multitude of different answers, but merging both of their ideas together just felt like a better guess. Byakuya hoped he was right about that.

So, with those as the guiding principles, the most likely reasoning for promoting Kyoko over his own son was… because she deserved it more than he did. Not because she was better at the job (they were both pretty good at it), but because she showed qualities that made her seem more adequate for it. She… was happy where she was, content. But once she got the offer, of course she jumped on it, who wouldn't? She was confident in her ability to do well.

On the other side, the reason he chose _not_ to promote Byakuya. The blonde looked at himself in the rear vision mirror and sighed. Because of this, because of what he was doing right now. Getting drunk, arguing with a stranger, etc. His father probably thought he wasn't ready. Alongside that, he may have seen Byakuya's determination to rise to the top as quickly as possible. The blonde could almost laugh as his brain supplied an imitation on what his father would say to him with a smile, ‘How childish’. Coupled with the fact that Byakuya wouldn't say no to the position, something he should do _as a self-aware adult_ if it truly felt as though it were out of his league. He would definitely deny his ‘childish’ outlook of the world.

To look into things a little more, with both of those reasonings in mind, it was also possible for further speculation to be had. If his father wanted him to be happy… obviously, if true, he must already think the opposite. _Does he think I hate my job?_ That couldn't be further from his actual feelings. By not giving the promotion to Byakuya, he was technically lessening the workload that Byakuya would have otherwise. And, if he hated his job, that would have been a blessing. But the contrary was true, so could there be another reason?

_Does he think I'm unhappy?_

His whirring brain went silent for a moment, as the question was contemplated. While he wanted to glare and roll his eyes at even the idea, the answer was obvious. Of course he wasn't happy with the result of the promotion, he didn't get what he wanted and was now acting like a fool just to… just to what? Forget about the problem till tomorrow? Clearly, that hadn't quite worked out, so this whole stunt was pointless anyway.

_Does he think I'm unhappy?_

...what other answer is there? It was just the promotion, right? Why else wouldn't he be happy?

…

A strange feeling mixed in his gut.

_...Am I happy?_

He rephrased the question in the hopes of making it easier to answer. It didn't. Well, at least the answer wasn't a no, but the answer certainly didn't seem to be a yes either, if the emotion spreading throughout him at just the thought of this question was anything to go by. Then he was in between? Why though? And it wasn't to do with the promotion?

What is this?

Is this what his father wanted him to think about?

Was this some awful ploy to make him see something?

Why not just **fucking** _talk_ to him about it?

_Why make me feel so_ strangled _just to make a point?_

If that's even the message his father intended to send with this whole thing. This was becoming a headache, the possibility so unlikely, but if true, was really worrying. The only word that came to mind was _why,_ but Byakuya didn't have an answer to the question, not even one he could create through conjecture.

**_What am I missing?_ **

…

Think.

             Think.

                                      Think.

_Think.                Think._

_Think._

**_Think._ **

**_Fucking think._ **

**_Think._ **

...

If thinking along the same lines, if his father believes that he's unhappy and that he hates his job... _does he think my job makes me unhappy?_ Well, uh.

Byakuya didn't have an answer for that either. The world outside the window had become increasingly familiar, he was maybe five minutes from arrival at his home. It was hard to believe any of what he just spun in his mind, it was all speculation in the end. Though, it was still possible for at least portions of it to be true. Was his father _really_ that cunning though? To use **this** _of all things_ as a wake-up call to what he’d been ignoring about himself? Was that the truth behind it?

The blonde shook his head, his cheek brushing the chilly glass of the window. It didn't really matter if that was true, because he'd already found a hole where a firm answer should have been. Maybe that was where he could start fixing this.

So now, the question was,

_Am I happy?_

A light smile graced his face. Even if the answer wasn't quite a yes yet, he knew he had the ability to reach for that. While he still wanted success and power, how quickly he got there wasn't going to matter if he made himself unhappy along the way. His somewhat childish ideals were still ideals, and he'd probably have to convince his father of that. Yeah… they should talk soon.

The promotion...probably didn’t matter in the long run.

A strange warm feeling settled in his chest, and he dragged his gaze to look at the driver- Makoto once more.

‘Makoto.’ The name came out sharp on his tongue, he was surprised how nice it felt to say. The driver seemed surprised to be called by name, rather than barely being addressed at all. He raised an eyebrow soon after, wary of blonde’s tone.

‘...You might be right.’

The car swerved a little.

The driver got a hold of himself quickly and managed to avoid crashing into anything. Luckily, the road was pretty much empty except for a few parked cars and an occasional car heading in the opposite direction.

‘Uh, w-what?’

‘You heard me.’

The driver briefly sent him an ever-increasing look of confusion. From what Byakuya could see, his eyebrow was raised quite high.

‘S-So, you agree with me now? Why? You've been mumbling for like ten minutes... was that what you were mumbling about?’

...

‘I wassh, mumbling?’

‘Yeah… I d-didn't really hear much of it, I assumed you wouldn't have wanted me listening anyway.’

_Oh good._

‘Anyway, your place is near here, right? A couple streets away? The GPS says so, but just to make sure...’

The blonde gazed out the windscreen, squinting as he pushed his glasses into proper position. The intersection was very close to his home, and the lighting in the area was much better than where his workplace was located. After nodding to the driver, he was finally able to get a good look at him. Makoto was a brunette, it seemed, his face soft and a little red in the cheeks. He looked about the same age as Byakuya, and now the blonde was having a hard time looking away.

‘S-So… what made you agree with me now? I doubt you just randomly switched to my side?...’

The question snapped Byakuya out of his staring, mentally cursing himself for it. He was growing tired, whether that was the alcohol or just him. His kept his sleepy eyes open through sheer willpower alone.

‘I did shome mental gymnashtics… and combined what you shaid with my take on it. Da daa, happily ever after.’ The blonde monotonously voiced before snuggling into the side of the seat. Eyes still open, he carefully watched the driver, considering him.

Makoto turned the wheel and the car turned right onto Ashgrove Boulevard. It was moments before arriving at his home, and Byakuya wasn't sure what to do. Every turn of the wheels pushed a sinking feeling in his chest. _After this, I'll never see him again._ The thought made him more upset than he wanted to acknowledge, but from only literally half an hour with the guy, he'd managed to cheer him up, sort of. _And also provided me with a completely different outlook. Can't exactly forget_ **_that._ **

Byakuya didn't really have friends like that…

He wouldn't even say he had friends. Sure, he had people that enjoyed his company, but it always felt like they wanted something from him. This driver had no obligation to do anything other than drive, but still, he decided to try his hand at ‘car therapy’. It was truly kind if him to do so. _I don't want this to end just yet._

The car stopped in his driveway.

‘Makoto, you are a driver yesh?’

‘Uhh, yeah? That's like, what I did, to get you here?…’

‘Enough sassh’

The blonde reached into his pocket to take out a small card and reached out for Makoto to take it. The driver did so, eyes scanning over the card. He looked up after a moment, perplexed.

‘This is your business card?’

‘You are my new pershonal driver.’

‘What? But, but I, have like, university, and I don't know what times you need to be at work and…’

‘Text me so I can texsht you the times, lemme know if they don't work for you and if they don't you can drive me earlier.’

‘I-I guess I live near this area…?’

‘You may keep your, uh _thing_? with Uber but I'll pay you a lot more to drive me. I'd like to thank you anyway.’

Byakuya watched various emotions flit over the young man's face, encouraging himself to remember each one. They were all pretty amusing. He seemed to be just accepting the situation. After all, it would be Makoto's choice in the end, to actually text him. Of course, he didn't have to, but the blonde preferred that he did.

With a wave reminiscent of the one Makoto gave to another driver, Byakuya left the vehicle on shaky feet and stumbled toward his front door. He tried to appear as put together as possible, but one glance back at the car told him it didn't matter here. The driver was grinning cutely, and responded with another little wave before retreating out of the driveway.

The blonde opened the door, went inside and immediately collapsed back against it, hearing the click of it locking. A small smile found its way to his lips as his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Perhaps now was a good time to celebrate.

**Author's Note:**

> Hahaahahahaha, I'm definitely supposed to finish my other story first buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut.....
> 
> whoops, I made a thing?
> 
> Sorry about that, but I'll try to get the other one done soon, I'm just kinda mad at it because it became too much plot when it was supposedly mostly a warm feels fluffy thing. I'm not sure if going down the investigation route was a good idea... but oh well, I already did it \o-o/ Idk, I should probably find a beta reader or something, maybe, i dunno. commitment is scary.
> 
> Anyway, hopefully you enjoyed this! It's a bit of a tonal mess but I think it flows alright? Leave a comment if you enjoyed, and if you didn't please let me know how to improve :) Thanks.


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